


when I'm feeling alone, you remind me of home

by elizaham8957



Series: find me where the wild things are [2]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Christmas, F/M, Fluff, Jon and Dany being cute and the animals wreaking havoc, Modern AU, the usual, where the wild things are one shot, you know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-26
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:01:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21965353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elizaham8957/pseuds/elizaham8957
Summary: “Happy Christmas,” she says, rearranging herself in his arms, their foreheads pressed together. Jon chuckles, leaning over to kiss her, sweet and slow, like he’s returning the sentiment.“Happy Christmas, Dany,” he says out loud once they’ve pulled away, dropping a kiss on her nose, making her giggle. He just holds her tight, the two of them basking in the early morning silence, soaking up the feeling of being in each other’s arms.After everything they’d been through, all the heartbreak and pain and fear, sometimes Dany still can’t believe that they’ve made it here. That they’re together, and that Jon loves her, and that she’s happier than she’s ever been before in her life.
Relationships: Jon Snow/Daenerys Targaryen
Series: find me where the wild things are [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1581247
Comments: 66
Kudos: 418





	when I'm feeling alone, you remind me of home

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jalen_mara](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jalen_mara/gifts).



> Merry Christmas part 2, everyone! 
> 
> So I ran a holiday fic giveaway on my tumblr in the spirit of giving, and I picked 2 different prompts to write at random. Meg was my first winner, which was super exciting because her prompt was WTWTA themed! This takes place after the story ends, so like... minor spoilers, I suppose, but I think we all know this is the direction these two are headed in. I had hoped that I would be able to finish WTWTA before posting this, but then my Secret Santa fic got away from me and... free time has not exactly been my friend lately. Regardless, I'm back to working on that next, after I finish up my second holiday giveaway fic, which should be up later this week. I had a lot of fun revisiting this 'verse, even briefly, to write this! 
> 
> Merry Christmas, everyone, and I hope you enjoy this! And thank you Meg for such a lovely prompt :) I'll be back with the next full chapter soon!! As always I am stilesssolo on tumblr and twitter if you ever wanna find me!

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/146793737@N07/49276443172/in/dateposted-public/)

There are a myriad of different reasons as to why Dany loves when Jon spends the night at her apartment, but one of the best is not being woken by a cat trodding on her face. 

She loves her cats so dearly, every one of them. But Drogon is a needy attention seeking  _ drama queen,  _ and she does enjoy being able to wake naturally, and not because he’s decided he will simply  _ starve  _ if he must go another minute without breakfast. 

She thinks that as she wakes today, the beginnings of early morning sunshine just starting to peek around the corner of her drapes. She opens one eye slowly, taking in her surroundings, reveling in the fact that she gets to choose whether or not to go back to sleep, not having to shove a disgruntled animal away from her face. Dany glances at the clock before closing her eyes again, taking a long inhale. It’s just a bit too early to be getting up quite yet, anyways. 

Jon shifts in his sleep, the arm wrapped around her waist pulling her tighter even subconsciously, and she smiles as she nuzzles into her boyfriend’s chest, inhaling his calming, clean scent. Like fresh snow and pine trees— even if it’s been months since they were there, Jon somehow always smells like Winterfell. 

And that’s another thing she loves about Jon spending the night. Waking up in his arms. 

His beard tickles her nose as she tucks her head into the crook of his neck, fingers drawing patterns on his shoulder absentmindedly where her arm is looped around his torso. His chest rises and falls rhythmically, heartbeat steady against her skin. 

Dany presses a kiss to his cheek, unable to resist the amount of pure affection she feels for him. 

At that, Jon’s brow furrows, and he shifts again, eyes fluttering underneath his lids. “What is it, love?” he mumbles, voice husky with sleep, hands stroking up and down her back absentmindedly. Like it’s more of an instinct than a decision. 

Dany’s still not quite sure what she did to deserve the love of this man, but whatever it is, she’ll never stop being grateful for the amount of joy and happiness he brings her. 

“Nothing, sorry,” she murmurs, a hand coming up to cup his face, thumb stroking over his cheekbone. “I didn’t mean to wake you. Go back to sleep.” 

“Too late,” he says, his other arm snaking around her, pulling her in tighter to his body. Dany squeals as he rolls them over, his eyes finally opening, warm brown meeting her stormy blue. Jon smiles a bit, the corners of his mouth ticking up, and  _ gods,  _ he’s the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen. 

“Happy Christmas,” she says, rearranging herself in his arms, their foreheads pressed together. Jon chuckles, leaning over to kiss her, sweet and slow, like he’s returning the sentiment. 

“Happy Christmas, Dany,” he says out loud once they’ve pulled away, dropping a kiss on her nose, making her giggle. He just holds her tight, the two of them basking in the early morning silence, soaking up the feeling of being in each other’s arms. 

After everything they’d been through, all the heartbreak and pain and fear, sometimes Dany still can’t believe that they’ve made it  _ here.  _ That they’re together, and that Jon loves her, and that she’s happier than she’s ever been before in her life. 

Jon sighs, as if he can read her thoughts and he agrees. “I think we should stay here all day,” he murmurs to her, fingers playing with her moonbeam curls. “Not have to go to Robb’s and deal with my bloody aunt and the chaos of my siblings. Just stay in bed with each other.” 

“That does sound nice,” Dany returns, pressing a kiss to his jaw. “But your family would miss you.” She smirks at him, and the look in his eye at her expression almost makes her laugh. “Besides, Catelyn is going to be so enamored with Ben that she’ll hardly spare you a glance, I swear it.” 

Jon shrugs, considering. “Aye, that is a good point,” he says. “Still. We can stay in bed just a bit longer.” 

“Until the animals demand our attention,” she says with a smile. Truly, it’s a miracle that Drogon hasn’t come scratching at the door, meowing like he’s on the brink of starvation. 

Ghost and the cats have warmed up to each other for the most part— Drogon is still skeptical, but Drogon is skeptical of  _ everyone,  _ even Jon, who he does occasionally let pet him. But the animals have banded together in their communal misery at being banished from the bedroom any time Jon spends the night. Ghost doesn’t mind as much anymore— Dany had gotten him a big plush bed for the living room that he now happily curls up in, but her cats are still mortally offended that they’ve been kicked out of her bed when Jon is here instead. 

“Aye, that’s true,” Jon says, chuckling. Yawning, he stretches again, his legs sliding against hers where they’re tangled together underneath the sheets. 

“It’s strange to be here for Christmas,” Jon finally says, rolling onto his back to stare at the ceiling. Dany follows, resting her head on the side of his chest, fingers delicately tracing the scar over his heart. 

She both loves and hates the marks that decorate his chest. She hates the reminder that people were so cruel as to try to take him from this world too early, and she loves them because they remind her, and him, just how strong he truly is. 

“What do you mean?” she asks, his hand coming up to tangle with hers, fingers lacing together. 

“I dunno,” Jon says with a shrug. “We’ve always gone home to Winterfell for Christmas. I know it makes more sense to have everyone come here, because of the baby, but… it’ll be strange to have a Christmas that isn’t white.” 

She laughs at that. As beautiful as Winterfell was, she can’t say that she particularly misses the cold. “I’m so sorry, love,” she whispers into his ear. “Maybe next year.” 

“Aye, next year,” Jon says, and it sounds like a promise. “I want to show you a true Northern Christmas.” 

“Jon,” she says softly, her nose brushing his. “You know, I’ve spent every Christmas for the past six years completely alone. I’ve never had anyone to celebrate with at this time of the year.” His eyes go soft, the brown of his irises like molten, drawing her in. “So I don’t care if there’s no snow on the ground. I’m just excited to get to spend a holiday with people I care for.” 

Jon smiles at her, a hand coming up to hold her face, stroking his thumb against her cheek reverently. “You’ll always have a place with me,” he promises, and still, the adoration in his eyes stuns her sometimes. After all the years of shutting out any feeling, trying to keep her heart protected, finally feeling so wanted and  _ loved  _ takes her breath away. 

“You say you’re not a bloody poet, and yet you always know the right thing to say with me,” Dany whispers, and Jon chuckles as she leans up to kiss him, wrapping her arms around his neck as he slants his mouth against hers. 

“Just luck I guess,” he murmurs into her mouth, but Dany knows it’s more than that. 

He kisses her soft and sweet, tangling a hand in her hair, holding her so close to him that she can feel his heart beating against her body. Dany runs her hands down his chest, loving the way his muscles shiver at her touch, nails raking lightly over his skin. Tilting his head, Jon kisses her deeper, hands leaving her hair to roam down her body, tongue sliding against hers, making her moan. 

“Jon,” she gasps as he rolls her under him, elbows by her head, his forearms boxing her in. He hums against her skin, leaving her mouth so he can explore the rest of her body, his unruly curls tickling her chest as he presses hot kisses to her breast. 

“Gods, I’m never goin’ to get over how fuckin’ beautiful you are,” he says, voice husky. She whines as his hand slides down her belly, coming to the juncture between her thighs, just barely brushing her clit. 

“You’re such a tease,” she grumbles as he withdraws his hand, and Jon smirks, pressing a kiss to the space below her ear. But Dany knows how to torture him just as much— slowly, she runs a hand down his abdomen, tracing a finger lightly across his hardened length. Jon groans, eyes slamming shut as she strokes him, leaning up to kiss him once again, teeth clashing messily. 

“What time do we need to be at your brother’s again?” Dany pants against his lips, and Jon mumbles something incoherent into the kiss, fingers digging into the flesh of her hip as he grinds against her. 

“I don’t bloody care if we’re late,” he says, and she links her ankles at the small of his back, his fingers finally parting her folds. 

And then, from out in the apartment, a thundering crash echoes into the bedroom, followed by a screeching meow and Ghost’s barking. 

Jon freezes, hand coming to the bed to brace his weight, looking at her closed bedroom door. “What the fuck,” he mutters, rolling off of Dany, both of them hurrying to sit up. Dany pushes her hair back from her face, grabbing Jon’s discarded t shirt, tugging it on over her head as he pulls on his boxers before he yanks the door open, rushing out into her living room. 

Dany skids to a stop right behind him, eyes going wide at the sight before her. Drogon mews pitifully, staring up at her from his spot next to the Christmas tree, as if he hadn’t just knocked it over, water and pine needles scattered everywhere, shattered ornaments glittering on the hardwood. 

“Drogon, what did you  _ do?”  _ Dany cries, Jon trying to quiet Ghost’s barking. Viserion meows at her, brushing up against her legs, tail swishing. 

“I thought you said he doesn’t touch the tree,” Jon says, Ghost finally hushing. Gingerly, Jon grabs the tree by the middle and stands it back up, avoiding stepping on the shattered glass on the floor. 

“He generally doesn’t,” Dany says, picking up Rhaegal before he can walk across the puddle of water and pine needles and track it through the rest of the apartment. “I mean, he  _ loves  _ attacking Christmas trees, but he’s terrified of the baby gate, so if I put it up around the tree he’ll leave it alone—” 

And then she notices the gate, dragged away from the base of the tree, on the other side of the living room. Ghost tilts his head, whining a little as his tail thumps against the ground. 

Jon seems to come to the realization at the same time as her. “Ghost,” he says, voice stern. “Did you drag that gate away from the tree?” 

Obviously, Ghost can’t answer, but there’s no way one of the cats could do it, so there’s really no need for an answer anyways. Jon sighs, pushing his hair back from his face, looking over at her.

“Gods, Dany, I’m so sorry,” Jon says, but she shakes her head, putting Rhaegal down on the couch and walking over to her boyfriend. He looks  _ so  _ distraught, a hand still resting on his dog’s head, and she can’t stand it anymore, rising up on tiptoes to kiss him softly. 

“Jon, it’s alright,” she says, smiling at him. “Truly. Don’t worry about it.” 

“No, I…” He shakes his head again, but an arm comes to wrap around her waist, his hand resting at the small of his back. “Ghost’s gone and ruined it—”

“Stop,” she says. “The tree just got knocked over. Nothing’s ruined.” She looks up at him, her eyes softening. “I meant it earlier. As long as you’re here, everything is perfect.” 

Jon’s shoulders sag a little, a smile creeping across his face, love shining in his eyes. She prays that he understands—  _ truly  _ understands. She’d never even believed she could be as happy as she is now before she’d met him. Giving him her heart is still the best decision she’s ever made. 

“I’ll buy you new ornaments,” he offers, and she laughs. 

“Deal,” she tells him. But she doesn’t want the meaningless baubles that decorate her tree now, those that she bought just to fill the space. No, with Jon, she wants a Christmas tree covered in memories— places visited, milestones met, things they create together. With him, she wants the rest of forever. 

And as Jon smiles at her, leaning down to kiss her once again, she thinks she might just get it. 

***

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/146793737@N07/49276443082/in/dateposted-public/) [](https://www.flickr.com/photos/146793737@N07/49275780678/in/dateposted-public/)


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